


Poker Face

by HalloweenBae



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Bobby Cannavale, F/M, Gambling, Poker, Prohibition, Vaginal Fingering, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 20:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalloweenBae/pseuds/HalloweenBae
Summary: Gyp needs some help with his cards.





	Poker Face

The smell of booze and cologne fills the room as you try to balance a tray of drinks on your palm. A chorus of laughter echoes against the thin walls of the club while you do your best not to cough through the thick cloud of smoke. Searching through the hazy dream of three-piece suits, you finally arrive at your table of customers.

“Four whiskeys, on the house.” You smile and sneak into the nearest opening between seats, leaning your hip against the table as you take each glass off the tray. One by one, you set them in front of their owner. 

Your boss had emphasized the relevance of tonight, and more importantly, the relevance of his guests’ satisfaction. You’d been briefed on Mr. Rosetti, in particular, and his short fuse. Rumors of killing men over something as petty as motor oil were whispered among the cooks and dishwashers before you came out onto the floor. Rumors of him being a ruthless, short-tempered monster that no one wanted to work with escaped their lips and slithered into your ears. Rumors, you had hoped to God, that were anything but true.

“Thank you.” The first three men look up and nod, glancing quickly back at the cards in their hands. 

“My pleasure.” You nod back, placing your club’s signature napkins just under each drink. 

You place the last whiskey in front of your final customer, leaning in front of him to avoid knocking over his water. You let go of the glass, straightening out your body out before his hand wraps around your wrist. 

“What is this?” He looks up at you, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray next to his drink. 

You gasp at the sudden contact, looking at your wrist and then back at him. The golden flecks in his brown eyes start to disappear as his pupils expand to the outer rims of his irises. His black lashes fall just below hooded lids, looking you over as he holds you close. Oh no, you think. This must be Gyp Rosetti.

“Donnelly whiskey, Sir.” You swallow hard as his thumb rubs the underside of your wrist.

“Are you sure?” He raises his eyebrows, glancing at his business partners before looking back at you.

“I poured it myself.” What was he questioning, exactly? The brand of the whiskey? The quality? Did he think you were trying to poison him?

“Taste it for me.” He lets go of your arm and drags his fingertips across the length of your wrist. 

You gulp as a knot starts to form in your stomach, pulling your muscles inward as he bites his bottom lip. For a monster he has a pretty handsome face; but monsters always have a way of drawing you in one way or another.

“Of course.” You wrap your fingers around the glass and bring it to your lips.

“What does it taste like?” There could have been a circus running through the room right now, and Gyp would be none the wiser. His attention is so focused on you, you can feel your body start to heat up under his gaze.

“It tastes like smooth, buttery heaven.” You wink and set his glass down in front of him. 

“And what do you taste like?” He leans forward. 

“I, uh…” you stammer, feeling his fingertips slowly walk up the back of your thigh. That knot in your stomach tightens, forcing the breath out of your lungs as you attempt to hold your tray steady. 

“Why don’t you sit on old Gyp’s lap?” He leans back and rubs his leg. “Help me with my cards?”

You glance down at the plum colored fabric that wraps around his legs and hips, perfectly tailored to his muscular body. His hand smooths the cotton up his thigh, pulling it tight around the outline of his cock before patting his knee. 

“My boss needs me to…” You take in a deep breath. “I couldn’t possibly…” No, you couldn’t possibly sit on one of the most dangerous men in America’s laps. You couldn’t leave at the beginning of your shift just to satisfy some urge you didn’t know you had until just now. An urge to run your fingers through those chestnut brown locks of his, to taste those perfect pouty lips. 

“Your boss wants to keep me happy.” He reaches into his pocket and drops a stack of hundred dollar bills onto the table. “Take a seat.”

Take a seat? Take a seat?! You feel your knees bend before you even know what’s going on. Gyp’s hand slides up your skirt and down the front of your thigh as you get comfortable between his legs. 

“Can we play poker now, Mr. Rosetti?” The man sitting across from him asks.

“Hold your horses, Charlie.” Gyp chides back. “We’ll see just how ‘Lucky’ you are tonight.” He picks up his cards and places them in front of you.

“You ever play poker before, sweetheart?” The scent of his cologne permeates into your nostrils as you lean back into his chest.

“Once or twice.” You admit, feeling his hand slide in between your legs.

“Oh, well it’s real easy…” He slides his index and middle fingers down the front of your panties, pulling them to the side before delving into your lips.

“Is it?” You whimper, breathing heavily. You can’t believe how wet you already are for him.

“Oh yeah,” His voice feels like heavy thunder rattling around in his rib cage. “Now I want you to pick up the third card from the left and lay it down on the table for me.” He instructs, that thunder now vibrating into your bones.

“This one?” You finger the length of the Two of Hearts. 

“Yeah, doll, that one.” He fingers your clit as you pull the card out from the deck.

You lick your lips as your chest heaves up and down, his fingers rubbing you in a perfect circle. You rock your hips into his hand as his cock starts to grow against your ass. Your lips part and you feel his breath on your neck; hot and steady against your ear. You place the card on the table and slide it over to Charlie. 

“Just one, Gyp?” He picks up the card and places it on the bottom of the deck, looking extremely annoyed, but not at all surprised.

“Yeah, Luc, just the one.” He sets his cards down and takes a sip of whiskey. 

“Here.” Charlie Luciano slides a new card from the top of the deck to the middle of the table.

“Now, I want you to pick up the card,” Gyp whispers into your ear, sliding his fingers up and down your dripping wet length. “But I don’t want you to react when you see it, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Charlie shakes his head in disapproval, downing the rest of his drink.

You lean forward and pull the card over the worn green felt of the table, slowly lifting it up to see what it is. The Three Of Clubs. 

Gyp’s fingers plunge inside of you, his thumb pressing down on your clit as you put the card in with the rest of his hand. You gasp as he fills you up. If his fingers are this big, you can only imagine how big his dick is.

“I told you not to react.” He says, shoving his fingers in even deeper. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter breathlessly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rosetti.” 

“Gyp.” He whispers, kissing your earlobe. He bites down and pulls your cartilage away from your neck, letting it bounce back as the other players trade in their cards.

The three other men trade multiple numbers of cards, trying not to break their poker faces as they get their replacements. Charlie lets out a long sigh as he sets the deck to the side. “Alright, Gyp…”

“Looks like we’re both getting Lucky tonight, Luciano.” He chugs the rest of his whiskey and sets it down on the table. “I fold.”

“Thank Christ.” Charlie mutters under his breath. 

Gyp takes his time pulling his fingers out of you, slowly tugging on your clit on his way up. He brings them up your dress, leaving a trail of your moisture on your black silk ‘uniform’. He brings them up to his lips and slides them into his mouth. The look on his face is so sinful, he looks like the cat that ate the canary. 

“Tastes like smooth, buttery heaven.” He looks you up and down, placing his fingertips on your bottom lip. “You wanna get out of here?”


End file.
